


Hurricanes

by lydiamartin (dwinchester)



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:18:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dwinchester/pseuds/lydiamartin
Summary: Very loosely based on Forces of Nature.





	Hurricanes

Allison sat in a chair by herself, at the front of the room. She had made Erica promise not to do something mortifying, like get her a stripper. As usual, her friend didn’t listen, and she wasn’t sure why this came as a surprise to her. What made it worse was that her dad and grandfather were there, standing near the bar and drinking champagne. 

Growing up, Allison had moved around a lot, so she didn’t have a lot of friends to choose from. San Francisco was where she had lived the longest, moving there in the middle of high school and staying through college. Erica had been her first roommate there, and while they didn’t agree on most things, they respected each other’s privacy enough to continue living together for the entire duration of college. Allison liked that it made her life easier, not having to worry about a different person every semester who might steal her things. All she had ever wanted was a life full of constants, and she had that now, with Scott McCall. 

They were getting married in Georgia, which was the last place Allison had lived before she moved to San Francisco, and she still loved the beautiful gardens in Savannah. If she hadn’t been so certain that San Francisco was where she belonged, she would have relocated herself to Savannah. But her parents were retired now, and thankfully not living in Florida, and she liked being in close proximity to them. Constants were important. 

“Are you having fun?” Erica demanded, nudging Allison’s shoulder as she moved to stand near her. “I swear, after all the work I put into this-” 

“Erica!” Allison laughed. “You called this bar, asked what it would cost to rent it for one night, and if you could book a stripper. One I’m not even sure is male, so that’s going to be even more awkward in about two minutes, when I have some poor girl’s breasts in my face. That’s all the work you did. My dad paid the rental fee and then decided to invite himself _and_ my grandfather. I think he’s worried that my mom might try to grope the stripper, regardless of their gender. I can’t decide if any of this is adorable or gross.” 

“God, go with adorable!” Erica grinned. “I’m a little bit mad at you for getting engaged before me, but it’s fine, because Boyd is going to ask me at your wedding reception and we’re absolutely going to ruin your big day.” She burst out laughing when Allison gave her a withering look. 

“Boyd would never do that to me.” Allison shook her head, smiling. “Shouldn’t you be making a speech right about now?” 

“Fine.” Erica cupped her hands around her mouth and let out a wolf howl, smiling widely when everyone got quiet. “Thank you. Now, I was told to make a speech, and we all know how Allison gets when things don’t go how she wants them to. She’s a spoiled bitch, but she’s my best friend. So the only thing I could do for her, on this final day she’ll be here with us as an unmarried woman, was to get her a stripper.” 

Allison put her hands over her face, blushing. “You seriously did it.” She muttered. “I cannot believe you!” 

The stripper turned out to be a dark-haired woman in high heels and a bikini, whose ‘talent’ was popping balloons attached to her swimsuit. It was ridiculous and horrible, and Allison was relieved when the woman wandered away from her to seek the only male attention in the room, from Chris and Gerard Argent. 

In a matter of seconds, Allison’s relief turned to horror when her grandfather collapsed. She ran to his side, calling for an ambulance. Gerard seemed unresponsive, and Allison started biting at her fingernails without realizing she was doing it. It took Erica smacking her hands to get her to stop. 

“Sweetie, you need to book a manicure appointment, and fast.” Erica ordered. 

“Last thing on my mind right now.” Allison muttered. 

“Yeah, but it won’t be, later on. On your wedding day.” Erica grabbed Allison’s elbows and pulled her into a standing position, guiding her away from Gerard so that the EMTs could take care of the old man. “Come on, I’ll drive you to the hospital.” 

**

Allison looked up when she saw Scott approaching her, a little while later. “Hey.” 

“Hi.” Scott pulled Allison into a hug. “I got here as fast as I could. Are you okay? I mean, I know that’s not the smartest thing to ask, but... are you?” 

“I’m better, now that you’re here.” Allison smiled half-heartedly. “My grandfather had a heart attack because he thought the stripper, courtesy of Erica, was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Those were his exact words. He says that his marriage to my grandmother was arranged and that he never really liked her. I’d like to think that it’s him being loopy from the medication, though. They’re keeping him until tomorrow morning, and my dad is at a loss right now. I thought, you know, that he’s...” She lowered her voice, glancing around before she continued. “He’s pretty old, and it’s not like he can never die, but I guess I’d kind of panic if my dad... anyway. I want to be here for my dad. I’ll just have to take a later flight.” 

“I understand.” Scott smiled gently. “Family is important to me, too. You know that.” His smile turned teasing. “Besides, you know this gives you more time to work on your vows.” 

“Scott.” Allison laughed. “You know I'm not very good with words. If I could just shoot an arrow at a target or something, to prove I love you, that would be fine. Like a Cupid thing.” 

Scott chuckled. “Well, maybe you can work that in, somehow?” He shrugged. “Whatever you say, I’ll love it. You know that. Just be honest. That’s all you really have to do.” 

“I know.” Allison nodded. “It’s just that the way we met isn’t even cute, okay? I hit a dog and I was a sobbing, snotty mess. On our first date, you had to go take care of a veterinary emergency. You know, now that I think about it, why am I marrying you?” She giggled. “We’re terrible together, every story we have is about injured animals or burned waffles, or - or the time you fell off my roof, trying to be romantic.” 

“I love you.” Scott kissed Allison. “Keep me updated on your grandfather, okay? I’ll call you as soon as I get to Savannah.” 

“Yeah.” Allison nodded. “You should probably get going, those security lines are awful and you’ve only got a few hours before the flight leaves.” 

“I’ll miss you.” Scott murmured. He brushed a lock of hair behind Allison’s ear and kissed her again. 

“Mm-hmm.” Allison nodded again. “I’m going to marry the hell out of you.” She smiled. “I’ll see you at the altar.” 

**

“I can’t believe you forgot to bring shoes.” Allison shook her head at Erica as they got out of the cab, the next afternoon. “How the hell do you forget to pack shoes?” 

“Oh my god, stop yelling at me, please? I have the worst hangover.” Erica sighed, rubbing her eyes. She froze, slowly turning her head to look at Allison. “You’re not going to care that I forgot the shoes.” 

“Why?” Allison frowned. 

“Um, because I forgot the rings. It’s not my fault! Boyd was supposed to bring them yesterday, when he left with Scott. But the ticket he took was supposed to be yours, and having to run all over the city to swap tickets and pack and everything, he forgot the rings. That’s why it became my job, but I left them at home because I forgot until just this second. But don’t worry, I’ll get this cab right here,” Erica pointed to the first cab in the row. “And I’ll go, and I’ll get the rings and my shoes. I’ll take the first flight out after that, and I don’t care if I have to run the whole way from the airport to the wedding, you’ll have your rings on time. Okay? Okay. I love you.” She got into a cab, leaving Allison clutching her wedding gown and staring after her in disbelief. 

With a sigh, Allison walked into the airport. Her head was pounding as she tried to remember everything on the checklist she had made for herself. Scott had left her a lot of post-it notes, all over their apartment, to remind her what she needed to pack and what should stay behind. She was grateful for his help, but she couldn’t help feeling like she had forgotten something really important. The sound of a squeaking luggage cart wasn’t helping her mood at all, and she hurried toward her gate, eager to escape the sound. She got through security without too much trouble, even though having to hand over her gown to be inspected had made her teeth clench, and her thoughts drifted until she heard that her plane had arrived. She got into line behind the guy who had been pushing the squeaking cart around the lobby, smiling impatiently when he was too distracted by his comic book to realize the line was moving forward. Frustrated, she tapped his shoulder. “Hey, do you think that you could maybe either, um, go up that way, or else let me pass?” 

The guy glanced up from his book, then snorted at her and moved forward. 

Allison rolled her eyes and boarded the plane when it was her turn, carefully hanging her dress up on the hook by the window. She admired the fabric. Most brides might have preferred something traditional, but Allison’s gown was silver, not white. She smiled as she thought about how long it had taken her to find the perfect dress, and how her mom had kept trying to convince her to buy a big, bulky white gown. It had never seemed like the right choice to Allison, and she stuck to her principles. 

“That’s pretty.” A red-haired woman nodded to the dress, then looked at Allison. “What’s the occasion?” 

“I’m getting married.” Allison smiled softly. 

“In that?” The woman’s eyebrow rose. “Seriously?” 

“I’m not sure how it’s any of your business.” Allison began. “But this is the dress I fell in love with, and it’s what I want to wear. You sound like my mother.” 

“I’d like to meet your mother.” The woman smirked. “You’re not supposed to fall in love with a dress, sweetheart. You’re supposed to fall in love with your groom. That’s probably why I’ve never gotten married. I love shoes more than any guy I’ve ever dated.” 

“I’m sure if you asked any guy to let you get married just in a pair of heels, he’d be agreeable.” Allison laughed. 

“Possibly, but my Louboutins would still be more important than pledging my entire life to another person. If shoes stop looking good, you can throw them out and nobody cares. It’s frowned upon to do that to men.” The woman grinned and held her hand out. “I’m Lydia Martin.” 

“Allison Argent. Soon to be McCall.” Allison shook Lydia’s hand. 

“When is your wedding?” Lydia turned a little in her seat, facing Allison. 

“Tomorrow, in Savannah. I was supposed to leave hours ago, but there was this situation with my grandfather being hospitalized.” Allison bit her lip. “And then my best friend forgot the wedding rings, so she isn’t here with me, like she’s supposed to be. I’m just hoping she gets to the church in time.” 

“A silver dress to go with your last name.” Lydia remarked. “No rings, a sick grandfather, and you’re probably going to be rerouted. You’re just asking for a disaster, aren’t you?” 

“Hold on, why would I be rerouted?” Allison blurted. 

“Because there’s a hurricane heading for Savannah, as we speak.” Lydia commented. “I’m guessing that you don’t pay much attention to the Weather Channel.” 

“Maybe that’s what I forgot.” Allison murmured, feeling crestfallen as she glanced at her dress. “I keep feeling like I forgot something, and I can’t figure out what it is. I don’t think this was it, but maybe.” 

“You should absolutely turn around and let me get a better look at your ass.” Lydia muttered. 

“Excuse me?” Allison blurted. She glanced at Lydia, horrified, then turned her head to see what had the other woman’s attention. It was the guy from earlier, who had the squeaking cart and the comic book. “Ugh, him.” 

“Well, I’m a photographer.” Lydia murmured, looking back at Allison. “I appreciate beauty in all forms. What’s wrong with him, though? Was he picking his nose in the line?” 

“No, just acting like a juvenile delinquent.” Allison shrugged. “He was reading a comic book and wouldn’t move forward when he should have.” She stared when the guy stopped and checked his ticket. 

“Hey, I’m supposed to sit here.” He smiled faintly. “So I’m just going to step over you, a little bit.” He told Lydia. “And try to squeeze in, if that’s cool? I mean, we could - well, you two could rearrange yourselves and I could take the aisle seat, but I have this habit of putting my elbows everywhere and I’ve seen The Wedding Singer enough times to know that I really don’t want the drink cart hitting me.” 

Lydia smiled up at the guy. “No problem, just climb over me.” 

Allison pressed her palm against her mouth and fought back a laugh. She scooted closer to the window to give him room, pulling a notepad and a pencil out of her carry-on to try to figure out what to write, for her vows to Scott. She got distracted by writing, but froze when she felt the guy leaning over her shoulder. “Do you mind?” 

“Oh, uh, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I was just - I didn’t mean to read it, I guess. I just saw words and got curious.” 

“Well, my wedding vows are personal, so could you not do that?” Allison demanded. 

“I’ve already overstepped by reading, so I’m just going to say this.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Your vows suck. ‘I take thee, Scott,’ first of all? Nobody talks like that. You want it from the heart, not from Shakespeare’s corpse.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re rude?” Allison stared at him. 

“A few times.” He grinned. 

“She’s getting married tomorrow.” Lydia spoke in a bored tone. “I’m Lydia, she’s Allison.” 

“Stiles.” The guy nodded to Lydia. “Are you two friends?” 

“God, no.” Lydia blurted. “Then I’d have to go to this travesty of a wedding. It’s in Savannah.” 

“During the hurricane?” Stiles turned to look at Allison. “It’s indoors, right?” 

Allison glared at both of them and went back to writing. The plane hadn’t even taken off from the runway, and she was hoping to get her vows written before her connecting flight. She was jerked forward suddenly, her pencil sliding across the page as the plane fishtailed. Passengers around her were shrieking in terror, and the masks fell from the ceiling above them. She quickly grabbed hers and put it over her mouth, then glanced to her side, where Stiles had leaned forward, his forehead against his knees. She made a noise of protest, grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking him into an upright position before she grabbed his mask and held it to his mouth. 

Stiles took a few seconds to realize what was going on, and he glanced at Allison and nodded gratefully, putting his hand over hers. 

Allison tugged her hand free and turned away, frowning to herself. His hand had been really warm, and it unsettled her. 

Once everything calmed down, the pilot informed them that they were being escorted off the plane and that emergency services were on their way to take care of anyone who had been injured. She followed Lydia and Stiles off the plane when the flight attendant cleared them to leave, going into the airport and calling Scott. 

“Hey!” Scott greeted her. “You’re on the news. They’re saying that a seagull flew into propeller, and you were on the footage, on the news. I just said ‘on the news’ twice because I’m a little bit freaked out. Please tell me that you’re okay.” 

“I’m fine.” Allison murmured. “I had to help the guy next to me put his mask on, and I think he needed a little more oxygen when the emergency services guys checked him out. Over. Whatever.” 

“Well, he’s lucky he had you there.” Scott smiled. 

“Yeah.” Allison looked up as someone waved a hand in her face, and she looked up to see Stiles. “Yes?” 

“You’re a freaking goddess.” Stiles blurted, his eyes wide. “Seriously, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there. I mean, probably died.” He leaned toward her. 

“What are you-?” Allison blurted, tilting her head back just as Stiles leaned in. Their lips met, and she hesitated for a second before she pushed at his chest, making him move away from her. “What... I’m on the phone with Scott. The guy I’m about to marry.” 

“Right, I wasn’t trying... okay.” Stiles nodded, walking away. 

“I should go.” Allison told Scott. “Everything is crazy here and - oh shit, my dress! I forgot my dress on the plane!” 

“Breathe.” Scott said calmly. “I know that one was important to you, but you could buy another dress in about two seconds and it would look amazing on you, because you’re beautiful, no matter what. In fact, with Boyd already being here, you could just call him and have him go get whatever you need, and then I won’t see it and it’ll be here waiting for you, when you arrive. Okay?” 

“Okay.” Allison said softly. Her phone beeped at her. “Damn it, my phone is about to die. I forgot to charge it last night, in all of the insanity. I’ll just text Erica and get her to handle it. I have to go.” She hung up and started writing a text to her best friend. ‘I need a new dress, mine was on the plane and the plane is being repaired in the hangar, and I can’t get to it.’ Just as she was about to send, the phone died. “No!” She screamed, ignoring the way people around her went silent and stared at her. “This cannot be happening right now.” 

“Can I help?” Stiles asked, giving Allison a concerned look. 

“No, no help from you, no thank you. I told you I’m getting married and you _kissed_ me!” Allison snapped. 

“Well, see, the thing is? I was going to kiss your forehead. But you tilted your head back as I was going in, and then it was lips on lips and you’re more to blame for that than I am.” Stiles shook his head at her. “And it was only for a couple of seconds, so I don’t see what the big deal is.” 

“Oh, sure. No big deal, just that I cheated.” Allison protested. 

“It was a bumping of skin.” Stiles grimaced. “Oh, that sounds worse. No. Listen. If you bump into a person in a crowded elevator, is that cheating?” 

“Well, no.” Allison agreed. 

“Right! So I was going to kiss your forehead and we bumped into each other with our mouths and that’s all that it was, it wasn’t even a kiss. Trust me, if I was going to kiss you, you’d get the difference.” Stiles smirked. “So stop freaking out. And come with me.” 

“Why?” Allison frowned. 

Stiles rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand, walking around a group of disgruntled would-be passengers from their flight. “Because every flight has been canceled and I’m going to try to rent a car and drive to Savannah.” 

“That’s all the way across the country.” Allison protested. 

“Yeah.” Stiles agreed. “Thirty-nine hours. I already checked for the fastest route. Now stop talking and move faster, so we can get to the rental cars before they’re gone.” He sped up, but wheezed a moment later and stumbled. 

Allison grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him sit down on the floor. “You’re not in any shape to go anywhere.” She shook her head. “At least, not fast. You should probably be in the hospital.” 

“No, it’s not the lack of oxygen thing.” Stiles looked up at her. “I just realized that I could have died. I think I’m having a panic attack? Um. I know my dad would miss me, but I think he’s the only one. That’s - that makes me feel like crap, actually.” 

“I don’t believe that.” Allison glanced toward the rental counters and sighed. “I don’t think we have a shot in hell of getting a car. Those lines are... wow. I’m going to need you to get up and come with me, okay? Because by myself, there’s no way I can make it to Savannah in time for my wedding. But if you drive while I sleep, and I drive while you sleep, I’ll make it in time. I know that.” 

Stiles stood up and walked with Allison, toward the shortest line. He glanced toward the one to their left, then the one to the right of them. “Maybe I should get in one of the other lines?” He suggested. “Because then, if one of us can’t get a car, maybe the other one can?” He took a step toward the line to their right, just in time to see the clerks put up a sign saying that they were out of vehicles. “Okay, so that one is...” He sighed as everyone from the line he had been about to join moved, to the line to the left. “Never mind, I’ll just stay here with you.” 

“Okay.” Allison whispered, ducking her head to wipe tears out of her eyes. “It’s like, every few hours, something else comes up, you know? And I haven’t written my vows...” She shook her head. “Do you believe in fate?” 

“Do I believe that some higher power murdered a seagull, just to keep you from getting married?” Stiles scoffed. “That would be kind of fucked up, right?” 

“Yeah.” Allison tried to smile, but it didn’t work. 

“Wait here a second.” Stiles wandered through the crowd and came back with Lydia. “Guess who managed to get a car?” 

Lydia looked smug. “I paid for a rental before I ever got off the plane. I’m going to Chicago. You’ll have to figure out your own way, from there.” 

“Great, thank you.” Allison nodded, not missing the way that Lydia looked at Stiles. She thought he was wrong, and that fate definitely worked in strange ways. She just wished it didn’t involve ruining her wedding to Scott, just to unite her new friends. 

“Good, let’s go.” Lydia led the way to the rental lot and unlocked her car. 

Stiles got into the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt, then started tapping away at his phone. 

“What are you doing, playing Angry Birds?” Allison scoffed from the back seat.

“First of all, that game is old.” Stiles looked back at her. “Secondly, no. I am not ‘playing Angry Birds,’” he mimicked. “I am looking at the route that Lydia here is going to take, to see if there’s a different airport that she can drive us to, _along_ her route, so that you can get to Savannah even faster than driving would take you. We’re hitting St. Louis on the way, so that might be your best option. Now, since your phone is dead and you didn’t think to bring a charger to fix that problem, would you like me to look up flights from St. Louis to Savannah for you? I mean, I’ll be doing it for myself, anyway.” 

Allison rolled her eyes and sighed. “Yes, please.” 

**

Lydia glanced at Stiles when they were in Bakersfield, a few hours later. She had pulled into a gas station to refill the tank and stretch her legs, and she couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. “Why are you going to Savannah?” 

“I’m visiting family. Sort of.” Stiles murmured. “There’s this big reunion thing and I would prefer not to go, but my former step-brother insists on it. My dad was married to his mom for a while, but they decided they were better as friends. There was no real animosity there or anything. It made our lives easier to have two parents who could attend school things, in case one was busy. They had tried to do that for us without the marriage certificate, but the school board freaked out about it.” 

Allison gave Stiles a curious look. “Why don’t you want to go?” 

“Big crowds full of people I don’t know?” Stiles pointed out. “Who enjoys that?” 

“Celebrities.” Lydia commented.

Stiles stared at her, then smiled and shook his head. 

“Okay, I’m going to get something to eat.” Lydia went into the gas station. 

“What was that about?” Allison glanced toward the store, then looked back at Stiles. “I feel like you two have some secret that I’m being left out of.” 

“I promise that it’s not important.” Stiles remarked. “Have you written your vows yet?” 

“No.” Allison shook her head. “I feel terrible. What kind of bride-to-be can’t figure out what to say to her husband on their wedding day?” 

“Well... you. Apparently.” Stiles laughed. 

“Oh god, shut up.” Allison put her hands over her face. “This would be so much easier if I could just call Erica or Scott. You don’t understand.” 

“What is there to understand?” Stiles shook his head. “Let’s see. Your grandfather has a heart attack and tells you, from what might’ve become his deathbed, that his marriage was crap. You can’t write your vows. Both of your best friends forgot your wedding rings, your phone died, you lost your wedding gown, and a hurricane is about to hit the one city in the world you just had to get married in, this weekend. What you should do is call the whole thing off and go into hiding for about a month. The universe is trying to tell you that this wedding isn’t worth the trouble.” 

“Or maybe it’s testing me to make sure that I can handle anything, just to get to Scott.” Allison countered. “Maybe everything has been great so far because it’s going to be great after this, too. And the wedding will be really memorable because it’ll be the lowest point of our relationship.” 

“That sounds really boring, Allison.” Stiles pulled his comic book out of his backpack and started reading it again. 

“What the hell do you even know about anything? You worship Batman.” Allison retorted. “You’re a grown man with a Batman backpack.” 

“And you’re easily offended by everything.” Stiles glanced up, even though he wasn’t looking at her. “Or at least, everything about me. I bet you and Scott get along so well all the time and everything is like vanilla ice cream in your life. Nothing else. Just the ice cream.” 

“Maybe I like vanilla ice cream.” Allison felt petulant as she folded her arms across her chest. 

“Nobody likes vanilla ice cream.” Stiles laughed. “They like what they can add to the vanilla ice cream, so that it’s not vanilla ice cream anymore.” 

“And just like that, you’re an expert on my life?” Allison sighed. 

“Well, maybe I am.” Stiles smiled as he turned to look at her. “Maybe there’s a lot more to me than you’d think, if you’d actually think.” 

“Maybe I don’t want to.” Allison smiled tensely. “Okay?” 

“Okay.” Stiles shrugged. 

**

Around ten o’clock that night, Allison woke up in the back seat of the rental car and rubbed her eyes as she sat up straight. The bright neon lights of Las Vegas greeted her, and she looked around in confusion. “Lydia, what are we doing here?” 

“Well, I was thinking about weddings.” Lydia remarked. “And how maybe my opinion of them wasn’t very fair. Sure, getting married to some regular guy might be awful, but marrying someone amazing would definitely be worth it, wouldn’t it?” 

“Yes?” Allison said carefully. She wasn’t sure she liked Lydia’s dreamy tone. 

“So let’s wake Stiles up, then.” Lydia parked the car and turned, shaking the man’s shoulder to wake him up. 

“What?” Stiles muttered. 

“We’re in Las Vegas.” Lydia smiled. “And I’ve decided that I’m not driving either of you one inch closer to Savannah until you marry one of us.” 

“Okay, nutjob.” Stiles shook his head. “Allison is engaged already.” He glanced at Allison, taking in her horrified expression. He looked back at Lydia. “But you’re not, so let’s go get married and then maybe you can let me drive for awhile, and you can sleep?” 

“It’s a deal.” Lydia got out of the car and started walking toward the doors of the chapel. 

“Are you stupid?” Allison demanded, unfastening her seatbelt. “You can’t just marry her, you don’t even know her!” 

“I know that you need to get to Savannah on time and that if we ditched Lydia right this second, she’d probably report me for a crime I didn’t commit or hunt me down and kill me. And she’s not entirely awful. I’ve met worse people.” Stiles opened his door and got out. 

Allison ran to catch up to him, still trying to convince him that it was a horrible decision. “Weddings need more than some guy dressed like Elvis! You need a bride in a white gown, in a little country chapel, with, I don’t know, rose petals and an aisle runner. Nice things.” 

“Your dress was silver.” Stiles pointed out. “I think it’s fine.” 

“No, I know that, it’s just that... that was my dress.” Allison stammered. “And your wedding would be different.” 

“My wedding will be different.” Stiles agreed. “Because I’m going to marry Lydia and then we’re getting the hell out of here.” 

“I give up! How are you okay with this?” Allison frowned. “You can’t just marry someone you don’t know.” 

“No, that’s a thing that _you_ can’t do.” Stiles smiled. “I think it’ll be okay. Lydia and I talked a lot while you were crashed out in the back, anyway. Maybe I don’t have five years of being engaged to her, but like I said? I’ll marry her, we’ll get out of here, I’ll just see where it goes. It’ll probably go straight to divorce court, but so? A lot of people get divorced.” 

Allison’s frown deepened, and she sat down in a chair. Something about Stiles’ words bothered her, in the same way that her forgotten _whatever it was_ bothered her, but then she was watching the ceremony commence. Still, she surprised herself when she stood up and objected. “You two cannot do this. Not until you’ve known each other at least a full twenty-four hours.” 

Stiles looked bemused. “Okay?” He looked at Lydia. “Give me your phone number, and I’ll call you.” 

Lydia recited her phone number, and Stiles programmed it into his phone. He walked outside with Lydia, speaking quietly to her. 

Allison followed slowly, sighing when she got outside and didn’t see Lydia or the rental car, but Stiles was there with their carry-on bags. “I guess she left us here?” 

“Yeah.” Stiles smiled. “But it’s fine. It’s an adventure.” 

“I don’t want an adventure, I want to go get married!” Allison snapped. 

Stiles burst out laughing. “Vanilla ice cream.” He muttered. “Okay, look. Let me just look up a flight from here to Savannah, and then we’ll try to find a way to kill time until the flight. Okay?” 

“Yes.” Allison nodded. 

Stiles searched for flights. “We can fly from here to Atlanta, and then get a connecting flight to Savannah from there, but it’s about eleven o’clock now and the flight won’t be until nine a.m. So, how do you want to spend the next ten hours?” 

“I want to take a hot bath and write my vows. And sleep.” Allison muttered. “In an actual bed, not the back of a crazy person’s car.” 

“You should probably stop calling her crazy, just because her ideas are different from yours.” Stiles suggested. He booked the flight for both of them. “Okay, that’s done.” 

“Wait! Did you just buy me a plane ticket?” Allison followed him, shaking her head at how often she was doing that, as he walked toward a casino. 

“Yes, because I can afford it, and it’s the right thing to do.” Stiles smiled. “So accept it, say ‘thank you,’ and let’s go to bed.”

“Excuse me?” Allison blinked a few times. 

“Lighten up, Ally.” Stiles shook his head. “Do you want your own room?” 

“I think so, yes.” Allison murmured. “This entire day has been a nightmare. I’m really hoping when I wake up, I won’t be dealing with any more drama.” 

“Allison Wonderland.” Stiles quipped. 

“My last name is Argent.” Allison corrected. 

“Only for another day.” Stiles laughed. “And then it’s McCall.” 

Allison got the familiar feeling of missing something, but this time she knew what it was. “How did you know that?” She shivered, staring at him. 

Stiles looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Okay, remember me saying that my former step-brother wanted me to come to a family reunion thing? It’s your wedding. Scott and I were brothers for about three years. I had other plans, but they fell through and when I called to tell him, he said that there was a flight you would be on. I verified your seat and bought the closest one to it, so that I could get to know you before the ceremony. I didn’t think there would be much time during the wedding or the reception, and you obviously matter to Scott. So that makes you important.” 

“You knew this all along and you kissed me?” Allison felt overwhelmed and sat down in a chair, near the front desk. 

“I was kissing my future pseudo-sister-in-law on the forehead, she just happened to tilt her head back and bump my face with her face.” Stiles reminded her. “In the lips.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Allison asked quietly. “Why keep it a secret for hours?” 

“Well, because I’m just another person, I guess?” Stiles shrugged. “You’ll see me at the wedding, and then you’ll go on your honeymoon with Scott. I’ll have one job or another, and you’ll maybe see me once or twice in a decade, at christenings for your kids. If you do that sort of stuff. I’m like... that relative that sends out Christmas cards, that you never reply to and you’re not even sure what the family relation is. Third cousin? Fourth cousin? Fourth cousin’s ex-husband’s great-aunt’s neighbor? So hard to keep track.” He laughed. “I’m going to help you get to your wedding because there’s no grand design telling you that you should or shouldn’t be marrying Scott. There’s just your worries and my pointing out how silly they are, so you defend yourself and realize that marrying Scott is still what you want to do with your life.” 

“Oh.” Allison blushed. “I really thought you were talking me out of it.” 

“So Scott can murder me?” Stiles laughed again. “I’d rather live. Now I’m going to check us into a couple of rooms and hand you your room key, and I’ll see you on the shuttle van to the airport, yeah?” 

“Wait.” Allison protested. “I feel like my head is spinning.” 

“That’s just nerves.” Stiles walked over to the counter. 

Allison followed him. “No, it’s not just nerves. You don’t understand. I need help writing my vows. Please? I feel like you somehow always know what to say, and I don’t.” 

Stiles gave Allison a considering look, then reserved one room and got the keys, resting a hand on her shoulder as they walked to the elevator. “What do you love most about Scott?” 

Allison folded her arms across her chest. “I love that he’s always there for me.” She murmured. “I moved around all the time, as a kid. San Francisco is the first place I lived for more than six months. Finding someone who was around all the time felt pretty good.” 

“So he’s a blanket?” Stiles eyed her as the doors opened and they got in. 

“No, he’s not a blanket!” Allison huffed, frustrated. “He’s...” 

“Secure? Dependable? Warm?” Stiles teased. 

Allison thought of the way Stiles’ hand had felt on hers, on the plane. She shook her head at herself, then nodded. “Yes. He’s all of those things. And that’s not bad.” 

“No, it’s not.” Stiles agreed. “But what, specifically, is it about him that interests you? Because those things you just mentioned? They’re not about him at all, they’re about you. It’s about what he does for you, not who he is.” 

“I met him when I had to bring in a dog I hit with my car.” Allison stammered. “And he calmed me down... no, wait. I mean, he’s kind. He’s sweet.” 

“What do you do for him?” Stiles prompted, guiding Allison out of the elevator with his hand on her shoulder again. 

“I - I don’t know?” Allison sighed. “I can’t think right now. I know we’re good together. I know it, but it’s like my mind is soup.” 

Stiles unlocked the door and tossed his backpack onto one of the beds. “What’s his favorite color?” 

“Red. No, green. Blue?” Allison sat down on the other bed and rubbed her eyes. “I’m not sure I actually know. Do you know?” 

“I can’t tell you.” Stiles shook his head at her. “If these are things you don’t know, then maybe something is wrong. I don’t want you to hurt him, but... okay. For some contrast? Lydia. She’s a photographer because she loves art and math, and she feels that photography combines both of those things. She was describing to me, in detail, how it feels to line up the perfect shot and capture it. There was a lot of stuff about vectors and placement, and I have no idea what the fuck any of it meant, but I loved how she sounded when she talked about it. I talked to her about some of the things I’ve done, that she asked about. The conversation didn’t really lapse while you slept. And her favorite color is purple. That’s why I was okay with marrying her, because I know that much and I know I could learn more, in time. I don’t care that she had a weird stipulation for driving us the rest of the way to Chicago. If I felt up to it, I’d marry one person after another, just to spend a little time getting to know them before I moved on to the next person. What the hell difference does it make, anymore? With a divorce rate of about fifty percent, it’s all either hit or miss, anyway. I just want to experience life.” 

“Why is this happening?” Allison laid back, looking up at the ceiling. “Why can’t I just figure out the right words, to marry Scott? I mean, he’s really important to me.” 

“So start with ‘I love you’ and work your way to the other shit.” Stiles laid down on his stomach on his own bed. He turned his head to look at Allison. “It’s not that hard, you’re just making it that way.” 

“Oh my god.” Allison grabbed a pillow and pulled it over her face. 

“What?” Stiles reached across the gap between the beds, nudging her. 

“I’ve never told Scott that I love him. Not once. Even after the flight that didn’t happen, he said he loved me and I didn’t say it back. I have never said it back.” Allison rolled onto her side to look at Stiles. “I’m sabotaging myself. All of this other stuff just gave me time to realize that.” 

“But you do love him, don’t you?” Stiles prompted. “You’ve been together for years.” 

“Isn’t it kind of telling that I never told him, though? How did this get past me? He has to have noticed.” Allison frowned when Stiles stood up. “Where are you going?” 

“Downstairs.” Stiles smiled. “We’re in Las Vegas, in a casino. I’m not just going to sit up here and listen to you gripe about your existential crisis.” 

“Well,” Allison sat up. “You’re also not going to leave me here by myself, right? I don’t have a working phone - hey! Your phone. Your phone works.” She reached toward him, her fingertips brushing against his pocket before he stepped back. 

“What in the actual hell do you think you’re doing?” Stiles blurted. 

“I’m getting your phone, so I can call Scott. You have his phone number in there somewhere.” Allison winced when Stiles smacked her hands away. 

“Excuse me, princess.” Stiles snorted. “Did it even occur to you to _ask me_ if you could borrow my phone before you started groping me?” 

“I was not groping you!” Allison protested, blushing. 

“An inch to the left, and you would have been.” Stiles retorted. “You can borrow my phone, if you ask politely.” 

“Stiles.” Allison cleared her throat. “May I please borrow your phone, so I can call Scott and tell him I love him?” 

Stiles’ eyes glinted and he shook his head. “No. At least, not yet. What you’re going to do is withdraw a hundred dollars from an ATM, then stay downstairs until either an hour passes or the money is gone. At the end of that hour, you can come back up here and use my phone.” To make his point, he plugged his charger into an outlet and connected his phone to it. After that, he reached for her hand. “Now come on, let’s go waste our money like true, red-blooded Americans.” 

“I’m not good at gambling.” Allison sighed as she took his hand. 

“Perfect, then you’ll be back up here in twenty minutes!” Stiles grinned. 

**

Fifty-nine minutes later, Allison was staring in disbelief at the amount of money she had won at a slot machine. She glanced up when Stiles approached her. “I think I might be able to afford a really great honeymoon.” 

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, we just have to get you to Savannah.” 

“Okay, but I’m not going anywhere until you answer a question for me.” Allison patted the seat beside hers, smiling when Stiles sat down. “What was that weird exchange between you and Lydia, earlier? She said something about celebrities and you just looked at her, and neither one of you explained it to me. What do you do? Are you an underwear model or something?” She laughed. 

“No, I’m not, but thanks for that that vote of confidence. You’re so sweet.” Stiles rolled his eyes and shook his head at her. “I’m a writer. I write screenplays.” 

“What kind of screenplays?” Allison started gathering handfuls of coins and putting them into a plastic bucket. 

“Uh, romantic comedies.” Stiles mumbled, staring at the floor. 

“Say that again? It’s really loud in here.” Allison remarked. 

“I said I write rom-coms!” Stiles blurted. “Okay?” 

“Then you definitely, _definitely_ need to help me with my vows.” Allison finished gathering her coins and grabbed Stiles’ elbow, walking toward the elevator with him. “I need them to be perfect. And I need to tell him I love him.” 

“Okay, but not in the vows.” Stiles protested. “The first time you say it can’t be in front of what, hundreds of people? That’s horrible. That’s the move that the person pulls in act one, before the main character’s story even starts.” 

Allison glanced at him. “Okay, so who am I, then? In this story. If it was a story, I mean.” 

“You’re not going to like this, but fine. You’re the deeply-flawed character who... I mean, if I was writing this? You don’t get the guy. Not yet.” 

“Ouch.” Allison muttered. “That’s - you’re right, I don’t like that. Why am I this evil person, exactly?” 

“You’re not evil.” Stiles sighed. “Just... you haven’t ever told him you love him, first of all. You’re impatient and uptight and your ideas about how to prove to the world that you’re not those things... uh, you’re going about it all wrong. It’s not edgy if you wear a silver dress instead of a white one, for instance. It actually sort of makes you look like an asshole.” 

“Stop talking, okay?” Allison muttered, staring down at the coins. “I’m happy with Scott. I love Scott.” 

“Yeah, except he doesn’t know that.” Stiles got off the elevator and walked down the hall, unlocking the door to their room. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll fly to Atlanta, get the connecting flight to Savannah, and then... you’ll get married, have a few drinks, and never have to see me again. So who gives a fuck what I think?” 

Allison set the bucket down on a table and wiped her eyes. She took her shoes off and sat down at the edge of the bed she had claimed earlier in the night. “How would you have her fix it, if this was a character?” 

“I wouldn’t.” Stiles shrugged one shoulder. “Ideally? Scott realizes that you’re not showing up, his smile fades, there’s a close up of his sad expression and then some transition scene of him getting up and grabbing a bag from the overhead compartment on his flight back to San Francisco. His cab pulls up just as a moving truck pulls away from the curb, and he rushes up the stairs in an overhead shot, the door swings open, and all of your stuff is gone.” 

“And you think I’m an asshole?” Allison scowled. 

“This isn’t your story.” Stiles shook his head. “You asked me what I would do, and I’m telling you. But real life isn’t like the movies. What’s going to happen is, you’re going to call him, tell him you love him, and go to sleep. I’ll write the damned vows for you myself, and when you get up, you’ll go to Georgia, say those vows, and become Mrs. Scott McCall. You’ll do the honeymoon thing, have at least four kids, and those kids will grow up and move out, and have their own kids. And so on. There’s your reality.” 

“Reality sounds boring.” Allison pouted. “Can’t you summarize something nicer? Or at least more interesting?” 

“Fine.” Stiles started getting ready for bed as he spoke, ignoring Allison when she blushed and turned her head to avoid looking at him. “You’ll have ten children, naming each one after a place you liked. The first kid will be a girl. You’ll name her Savannah. Half of them will resent you for it and only go by their middle names or nicknames that they earned, as kids. Holiday parties will be overcrowded and three of your kids will take up smoking, just to have an excuse to go outside and away from the claustrophobic conditions that you and Scott created by not being more proactive about birth control. Your second youngest kid... uh, Vegas?” He snorted. “He’ll be arrested at nineteen for stealing a car, and you and Scott will give him your best ‘I’m so disappointed’ faces, but you’re both terrible at it, and after you’ve bailed him out, he won’t speak to you for two years. In that amount of time, he’ll be living with me and turning his life around, but when he shows up to give all of you gifts at that year’s Christmas party, you’ll assume the worst and piss him off, so he’ll throw everything into a pile in the yard and set it on fire. Is that better?” 

“It’s not better.” Allison rolled her eyes. “But at least it’s more detailed than ‘get married, have babies, die.’ I have a feeling you’re not very successful at your chosen career.” 

“You wanna write your own vows?” Stiles smirked. 

“I want to have a wedding that doesn’t suck.” Allison glanced over her shoulder, relieved when she saw that Stiles was in his bed, covered up. “If this story isn’t my story, then what’s my story, exactly?” She yawned.

“I don’t know, yet.” Stiles smiled faintly. “Go to sleep.” 

**

Allison woke up to the sound of the alarm clock, between the beds, beeping at her. She sat up and shut the alarm off. Stiles’ bed was empty, and a room service tray was on the table, beside her bucket of coins. She walked, barefoot, over to the bathroom door. The door was open and the room was empty. She walked back toward the table, picking up a folded piece of paper with her name spelled incorrectly. She couldn’t help smiling to herself as she opened it. 

_’I take thee, Scott, to be my perfectly ordinary husband. To live out the rest of my years with you, devoid of any conflict bigger than whose turn it is to replace the empty carton of milk in the fridge. I promise to not only forget to shave my legs sometimes over the rest of our lives, but to also outright decide not to bother. You’re stuck with me, you can handle it. I vow to lose the remote at least once a year and blame it on you. But above all else, I pledge my life to making sure you start and end each day with a smile on your face, no matter how wrinkled it gets.’_

Allison laughed, wiping tears out of her eyes. She eyed the alarm clock, then lifted the lid on the room service plate. Instead of the food she expected to find, there was a business card with the phone number’s extension underlined in black ink. Stiles had added an exclamation mark after it. As she was trying to figure out what that meant, her phone rang. Startled, she looked around, then realized it was on the charger that Stiles had been using the night before. He had left it for her. Even though she didn’t recognize the number, she answered. “Hello?” 

“You’ve got about four hours to call the number on that card I left you, have them meet you in the lobby with the dress you’re wearing tonight, and get yourself some breakfast on the way to the airport. Lucky for you, I also arranged for a car to take you to the airport, and you can eat on the way.” Stiles murmured. 

“Great, but where are you?” Allison demanded. “Aren’t you going to the wedding?” 

“Actually, I’m not.” Stiles said calmly. “After I finished writing your vows for you and got the situation with your dress taken care of, a few things occurred to me and I had to go. But you’re going to have a great day. A lot of them. Ignore every shitty thing I said, okay? I’m a jaded douchebag.” 

Allison breathed in and out slowly, closing her eyes. “What if I said I really need you there? I feel like you see through all of my crap. And you weren’t wrong about any of it. I didn’t even call Scott last night. I should have.” 

“Allison, shut up.” Stiles laughed softly. “You’ve been together for five years. You really think he doesn’t know that you love him? They’re just three little words, and most of the time, they don’t even hold value.” 

“But I can’t-” Allison blurted. 

“You can, and you’re going to.” Stiles interrupted. “Take a shower, get your dress, eat your breakfast, get married. That’s all you have to do today.” 

Allison sighed when Stiles hung up. She bit her lip, then saved his number in her phone. She sat at the edge of Stiles’ bed and scrolled through the contacts, calling Scott. 

“Hey!” Scott answered. “How’s everything going?” 

“I can’t marry you.” Allison said quickly. “Scott, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t even until last night that I realized I had never once told you that I love you, and five years is such a long time to wait, you should have just broken up with me. I care about you. I don’t even know if it’s love. And Stiles wrote me these great vows, and I cried because they’re so nice and they’re exactly like me, and they’re nothing like what I would have written. I don’t understand that, but I’m trying to. I don’t think I can get to that point in less than twelve hours. I don’t think it would be fair for me to try. He’s gone and he won’t tell me where he went, and I know it’s so horribly unfair to ask if you know where he is, but I think you probably know. You do, right?” 

“Yeah.” Scott said quietly. “I’m not so sure I want to tell you. I do understand, and I’m glad you figured it out for yourself, I just wish it had been a little sooner. Or even a little later. I have to go tell everyone that you’re not coming. I mean, it’s okay, it’s not your fault. But it sort of is.” 

“It definitely is.” Allison agreed. “And I’m sorry. I don’t understand myself at all, and it’s weird to know that, but...” 

“But it’s not something you need to share with me.” Scott finished for her. “I want to say something kind of rude, like telling you to fuck off or have a great life, in a really sarcastic way.” He laughed sadly. “But I know I’ll probably see you at some point, when one or both of us is moving out of the apartment. I don’t want this conversation kind of hanging between us like that. So I’m going to hang up, and I might even cry a little bit, like a giant girl. I want you to feel a little guilty, but not too guilty, okay? Good luck with whatever it is you’re going to do.” 

“Bye.” Allison murmured, lowering the phone and ending the call. She felt too numb to cry in that moment, but she sobbed a few minutes later, as she took a shower. She was furious with herself and with Stiles, for walking into her life and making her realize how much of a mess it all was, before he walked right back out again. As she dried off and got dressed, it occurred to her where he might go. She smiled to herself as she gathered her things in a hurry, running to the elevator and calling the number on the business card, on the way. “Listen, I'm in a real rush.” She blurted. “I don’t know what the guy told you, but I’m supposed to ask you to meet me in the lobby with a wedding gown, and I’m on my way to the lobby right this second because he’s an idiot and doesn’t realize that he’s the guy I actually want. Or at least, I think I do. And that’s really not your concern, I don’t know why I’m telling you. Sorry, sorry. My hair is wet and I have to change my flight and go to Chicago, to stop him from marrying some psychotic redhead who might not actually be psychotic, because she had the guts to ask him before I could.” She rushed out of the elevator, darting around a few people. 

“I see.” The clerk responded. “Well, we’ll send someone to meet you. You can just change your flight or buy a new ticket with your phone, that should save you time.” 

“Oh god, right. Duh.” Allison laughed, embarrassed. “Thank you.” She hung up and bought a ticket to Chicago, glancing up every few seconds to see if there was anyone carrying a white wedding gown through the lobby. Instead, she was greeted by the sight of a woman in a simple black dress carrying a nineteen-twenties style silver dress with a full-length skirt. “Excuse me!” She called out, waving a hand nervously. “I think that might be mine? It’s for Allison Argent, right? That’s me.” She got her ID out of her purse, holding it up to show the employee. “Do I owe you anything?” 

“No, ma’am. It’s been paid for.” The woman handed the gown over to Allison and hurried back toward the shop she had come from. 

Allison only gave herself a few seconds to admire the gown before she ran out to look for the car that Stiles had said would be waiting for her. “Hey, hi! Allison Argent is me. See? Silver dress, which I’m sure you were told I’d be carrying? I have my ID, though. Here.” 

The chauffeur smiled and shook his head. “No need, I was already presented with a picture of you.” He opened the door for her. “There are croissants in the warmer, there.” He pointed. “We’ll be at the airport shortly.” 

“Great. Wait, hold on, you might have to drop me off at a different part? I don’t know what the airport here is like, but I’m going to Chicago. Not Atlanta.” She gave him her flight information, and he nodded. 

“Yes, Ms. Argent, I’ll handle the new plans.” The driver assured her. 

Allison sighed in relief and got into the car, hanging her dress up in the window and indulging herself in the breakfast that Stiles had arranged for her. 

**

A few hours later, Allison was wearing her intended wedding dress as she walked through the art gallery, admiring Lydia’s photography. She spotted the woman in question and hurried toward her. “There you are! Is Stiles here?” 

Lydia shook her head. “Why would he be? I thought you were both going to Georgia?” 

“We were supposed to.” Allison agreed. “But he made me rethink some stuff and then disappeared on me. I called off the wedding and I thought he would have come here.” 

“Why would he come here?” Lydia asked again. “I felt like being impulsive and seeing if he would go along with it. If you hadn’t intervened, I’d be Mrs. Whatever-his-last-name-is. I don’t even know it. Do you?” 

Allison’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “Oh my god, I’m so stupid. I called off my wedding for a guy I don’t even know. Everything he said made sense and it felt like... it felt right, to not marry Scott.” Distraught, she walked away from Lydia and called Erica, just as she started to cry again. “I’m so stupid.” She told her best friend. “Unbearably stupid. I’ve made a horrible mistake and I don’t know what to do right now.” 

“What do you want me to say to you?” Erica asked carefully. “Do you want me to be supportive or do the tough love thing?” 

“I don’t know! I should have just married Scott, but I felt more for a complete stranger, so I thought that was some kind of sign that I should end things. My head hurts and I’m wearing the wrong shoes for this dress because guys don’t know anything about shopping and my luggage is probably in Savannah, without me. What would you do if you were in this situation?” 

Erica laughed softly. 

“Stop that, you’re not helping me!” Allison snapped. She sat down on a bench, looking around. 

“Listen, you are where you are because you got yourself there.” Erica’s tone was calm and left no room for arguments. “The first thing you need to do is find somewhere else to stay, after you finish leaving Scott. Where are you, anyway?” 

“Chicago.” Allison said sheepishly. 

“What the fuck are you doing there?!” Erica shrieked. “Okay, fine. I’m fine. Boyd’s shaking his head at me. Listen. Check into a hotel and use your phone to find an apartment anywhere in the world. Anywhere but San Francisco, that is. I know you love it there, but you need to be away from Scott and that’s going to mean being away from everyone else, too. Our circle is pretty small, you know? I’ll still come visit. Knowing Scott, he will, too. Get yourself a place and call me back when you do.” She hung up. 

Allison got up, glancing over her shoulder to eye her skirt and make sure it wasn’t covered in dirt. When she saw that it was okay, she sighed in relief. It was still too early to check in anywhere, but not too early to sign a short-term lease. She walked down the street, looking around for any apartment buildings that had something available for rent. “I’m stupid.” She muttered, shaking her head and laughing. She snorted when someone hurriedly stepped away from her. The future was suddenly terrifying and full of possibilities, and she had no one to share it with.


End file.
